Best/Strangest/Coolest/Most shocking of 2003

While at my parent's house this holiday season, I've spent a considerable amount of time watching television (I also spent a considerable amount of times playing cards with my grandmothers, but that it not nearly as interesting). I love end of the year television. Every station feels it is their duty to tell us about the est of 2003. In the past week, I have learned about the 101 Juiciest Hollywood Hookups (#1 - Ben and Jen), the 101 Most Shocking entertainment Moments (#1 - OJ Simpson Trial), the 40 top videos of the year (# 1 - Unwell by Matchbox Twenty) and the best and worst moments of Trading Spaces in 2003. It's a wonder people ever watch television during the rest of the year. If I had known that Ben and Jen were the juiciest hollywood hookup, I would never have spent all of that time learning about Demi and Ashton or Beyonce and Jay-Z.

I feel like I waste so much time on the least juicy couples, and the not very shocking moments, not to mention all of those terrible music videos. Its not very efficient. Maybe they should have a show in the beginning of the year predicting what will be big in 04. That way we could all program our TiVo machines accordingly.

Big in '04...Hear that Entertainment Tonight? Now, there's your new year's resolution.

Friendster

Friendster is a cruel cruel mistress. I love it, I hate it, I can't live without it. At first I thought it wasn't for me, but now...and, yet, it is always hurting me. Sometimes it's subtle and simply freezes my computer, other times it shows me that those I thought were friends don't want me in their circle...and it hurts.

Just today I logged on to find out that my "friend" Phil doesn't think I'm good enough to be his "friendster friend." Well Phil, have I got a testimonial for you. Jerk. I don't need Phil (Phil - if you're reading this it doesn't mean that you shouldn't accept me as a friendster friend), but I do need friendster.

Well, actually, I don't.

Twas the Night Before Christmas...Eve

Here I am in sunny Heathrow, Florida. It is the night before the night before Christmas, I have not purchased a single gift, and I have no idea what I am going to do to remedy that situation. I should be sleeping or at least making a list that, due to time constraints, cannot be checked twice, but I am not. I wonder what the rest of the Christmas celebrating world is doing tonight. If my house is any sort of indicator, they are all asleep and those who are not are playing on the internet. Maybe its because this year went by as fast as a night when I've had one too many cocktails or maybe its because I live in California and visit Florida for Christmas, but I'm just not in that holiday spirit.

It all started the day I got yelled at the train station. I was on my way to go shopping, I went through the wrong gate and Mr. Scrooge McMuni Man actually left his ticket booth to yell at me for five minutes. I promptly bought him a blow-up Grinch doll (on sale at Walgreens) and explained to him that he sucked for roughly five minutes. Usually, that sort of in your face revenge makes my day, but this time it did nothing but make me think about why people suck. Then there are those Salvation Army bell ringers. Although they are trying to do nothing but good, you can't help but hate them because of their stupid annoying bells. Finally, at the airport, this woman tried to cut in the Starbucks line because it was 6:00 in the morning and she was "really tired." That's so strange to be tired at that hour...

So, until today I was left with nothing but a whiny voice, a bah humbug spirit, and no ideas for my very last minute Christmas shopping. Then I heard about Roy. He's going home. He can't speak (which means we still won't know what really happened the night of October 3, 2003), but he'll be with his loved ones...maybe even the tigers. And that's when I remembered what Christmas is all about...getting presents.

The Mug

For the last few weeks, there has been something I've been meaning to do. The longer I wait, the more likely it is that I'll never do it. What is it you ask? Empty the travel mug filled with tea, most certainly moldy tea. Why do I wait you ask? First, it was pure laziness. Cleaning out the mug, which in the early stages only involved a simple pour and wash, would require walking all the way to the kitchen. I could, of course, use the bathroom, but something grosses me out about that. Ironically, I am grossed out by washing a mug in a bathroom sink, but not by keeping a mug full of mold in my office.

The truth is, I wait because I am quite grossed out by the mug, which is why I won't touch it. It sits their tall and gross next to both my water cup, that is probably swimming in bacteria just being next to the moldy mug, and another, pretty dirty, but not yet moldy, mug. At some point, I am sure something will have to be done about the mug, but that day has not come and I am certainly not the "do something about mold" kind of person. So, until that person, and that day, arrive, I sit with the mold.

I guess it doesn't help that it is sitting right under my lamp too. Well, it helps the mold...

The Wall

I've hit a wall. An incredibly boring wall. My life has produced nothing worth writing about since Thanksgiving, and, as we all know, that entry sucked. So, I must apologize. I will do my best to have strange encounters and new weird stories to share...promise.